


Day 15

by AMRainer



Series: 30 Days OTP Challenge: NSFW Edition [15]
Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Alternate Universe - Paris, Day fifteen, Drabble, Drabble Collection, Drabble Sequence, F/M, Fluff and Smut, It Gets Worse, Smut, This is so cute so yes, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 00:24:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11680173
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AMRainer/pseuds/AMRainer
Summary: They come to each other that night sure of nothing, not even that they will ever see each other again.





	Day 15

**Author's Note:**

> to Lore, for being the emily to my hotch (it's a loooong story)

DAY 15: SWEET AND PASSIONATE

.

 _It's Paris_ , this is what she tells him a split second afore – what is her new identity? He can't remember – she is tugging him inside that random apartment they had thrown her at. She clasps his hand with more devotion than she should, the still brunette woman lingers the touch until she has him against her front door.

The father of one does not ask questions – the bulge in his cargo pants wouldn't let him anyway – only shoves his rough lips to blend with her swollen red mouth, his tongue exploring like this is the last night of their lives and there's a tinge of desperation in the manner he rips apart the buttons of her jacket, that screams to him that if she is to be back, he'd give up on his life for her once more.

Because he has. Somehow that is. He couldn't handle the team looking at him, couldn't handle their suffering, and Aaron Hotchner had to run away for a mission in the middle of nowhere because he was afraid – afraid of himself after acknowledging the extents of what he had done to save the woman whose hands are now searching for his belt buckle.

He takes her to bed, hands on her hips while he guides her through the mess that is this small impersonal room, lips searching for every patch of skin available. Feminine body stumbles down the surface, and the now bearded man wastes no time on stripping them of every layers cladding their images. And he smiles, actually smiles against her lips when his whole body is sinking her into the mattress, their wounded abdomens seeming like they had just found the perfect match to their imperfections.

There is no hesitation, no protection also because he had no fucking clue he'd hold his spot above Emily Prentiss' delicate frame tonight. If only he knew. He is about to drive into her, to slam home with all the gentleness that he could possibly show in his rather disarrayed condition. Yet, he doesn't.

Pulling her closer, he gives her the power she has been lacking, the heal she has been scantly receiving and ends up that damn lonely torture that all of this place now represents. She is straddling his hips a minute later, large masculine palms running her sides like they want to record every change her smooth skin has – from the blackbird painting her ribs to the 1985 etched in black on her hips.

They come to each other that night sure of nothing, not even that they will ever see each other again. And whether she walked in the briefing room a couple of months later with hope amidst the sadness engraved in her brown eyes, it wouldn't be that much of a surprise if the hazel orbs on the other side of the room were only a mere reflection of hers.


End file.
